Stop Me From Falling
by Alkohlolic
Summary: GinnyHarry romance with a twist. Ginny is a Death Eater, trapped between two sides of a war... will she be saved by her knight in shining armour, or will Voldemort's influence over her sweep her away completely? This is Ginny's story.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters I'm talking about. But I don't think this plot has been tried before so... I'm not copying anyone that way. I am, however, completely ripping off J.K. Rowling in many aspects. So shoot me.

**-x-**

It feels like the whole world is falling down around me. I'm standing still, and everybody else is rushing about living their lives, but I'm too busy just standing here to have any idea how to join in. I somehow got split up from the rest of my tour group, and I'm lost in another place. But I haven't got a tour guide looking for me. I'm going mad, being completely alone, with nobody ever by my side. The only time it ever slows down is when I see him.

After all these years he still looks the same. I remember at Hogwarts when he would look into my eyes, just for a moment, and I would melt in them. The huge puddles would pull me in and I would be drowning. But I never wanted anyone to pull me out. I was in love with him even then. Nobody believes in love at first sight. Apart from me. That first time, by the train... Sure, I'd seen pictures. But nothing prepared me for the way I would feel. I didn't notice his scar. His now infamous hair. For me it was the eyes... always those eyes.

I stood no chance with him. And I knew it. I was a little girl that just happened to be his best mate's kid sister. He never felt anything for me. So I gave up after a while. Gave up hoping, I mean. I never gave up loving. I just knew it would be forever unrequited.

But now I stand even less chance. I'm just an adult that can't forget about a teenage infatuation. An adult past breaking point, who's barely standing. The only reason I am still standing is that last thread of humanity I'm clinging onto. That last thread that he seems to have embedded in me. But I don't know how long it will be before that thread breaks, and I'll be falling... falling... with nobody to catch me.

It's hilarious, really. A Death Eater, in love with Harry Potter. The notion almost makes me laugh, until I remember that's me. I never realised how far gone I was, until Dumbledore... But now the only man left who stands a chance of defeating Him is Harry. The man I am hopelessly in love with. Part of me longs for them to stay apart. Not because I would be killed in the crossfire- I know I'd be one of the first to go- but now it seems inevitable. I just can't lose Harry. Not that I have him at the moment... not that he would want anything to do with me at all... but he's my last support, my last strong link. The thing that keeps me alive until morning. And I know, in my heart, he couldn't beat He Who... he couldn't beat Voldemort.

I've met him, pledged alliance to him... why shouldn't I be afraid to say his name? I should be afraid of _him_ but not his name, yet somehow it's the opposite. I'm not the same as all the other Death Eaters... I don't bow down before him or cower in his presence. I remind myself of the hundreds of thousands of people he's killed or tortured... I even remind myself of all the things he did to Harry, and still... nothing. There's no hate, no horror. Voldemort just isn't... he's not the same. Not the same monster that he's made out to be. I remember him as Tom Riddle. As my friend. My friend who tried to kill me, but he was human. And I think I'm starting to understand. I think I know why I saw fear in Dumbledore's eyes. Why I'm not afraid of the epitome of evil. Why I no longer seem to fit in either camp.

I understand, but I don't understand why _me_. Why am I so different? But I still feel the same. The same old Ginny. Who fought Death eaters alongside Harry. Who then went on to become one of the people she once hated with a vengeance. And I'm starting to hate me too. Because deep down I know this is wrong. So I'm dying for him to stop me falling, before I'm not scared at all. He needs to save me... before I embrace it.

He always saves me in my dreams. In real life I know he'd kill me. Take one look at me, and detest me so much that he wouldn't have any doubts about throwing one spell at me. And I'm so in love with him... I could stop him, if he tried. I'm as powerful a witch as there ever was, or so He says. And I believe Him. He doesn't lie. But I wouldn't stop him. Because to look at Harry... see those eyes despising me... that would make me feel worse than if I was dead. I couldn't stop him from hurting me. So I've figured it out. The only way to save me... is to kill me.

**-x-**

**End it on this:** well, I for one like the idea I've got for a plot. So I'm going to carry on writing it. But I'd love to know what you thought, so please review. It'll take a second if that, and you _know_ you want to... deep down.


	2. Emotion

**Chapter One- Weakness**

**Author's Note:** Huge thanks to luluxxo, Romina and Frid Grnade for reviewing... I love positive feedback!

**-x-**

**H**e was in my dream again. It seemed I was hardly free from him now. Like everywhere I went, everywhere I was, he was following. Watching. And his eyes, boring into mine... they burnt me. But every time, even though the pain grew more intense, I wanted it more. I yearned for the power within him, I yearned for him to connect with me in that overwhelming way that made me feel so alive. That made everything else seem dim and irrelevant.

Now even my dreams were not private... he could fill my mind so completely. I begged myself to avert my gaze but I couldn't. He was holding me in place, capturing me and letting his eyes be the channel into the redness I saw within him. The redness that was creeping across onto me. Seeping into my skin, burning my insides and making it harder to breathe. I was stifled, but still I was still. Motionless, powerless, under his control. This was what he liked. To hold me while he watched me remember. He was making me remember.

I was transported back two years. Dumbledore was kneeling on the ground before me. I held his wand, and I knew I was at the top of a cliff. I still had a choice. Freewill. I had a conscience... barely. It had been damaged by so many powerful brainwashing tactics, but it was still present. And still throbbing within me now, imploring me to make a decision... the right decision. Make or break, Ginny, and it's all up to you. This is your chance. You can escape. Just choose the right choice, and you'll be free. If only I knew what the right choice was.

His wand was still tingling in my hand. He'd tried to disarm me but I'd got there first. The spell was lingering at the tip of his wand, causing it to quiver and emit heat. It was a potent spell. I brushed it along the palm of my hand, allowing the occasional spark to enter me. The tiny embers flickered when they touched my skin, and each one increased the bubble that was growing inside. His magic was inside me, making me stronger by the second, and making me feel immense. I felt like I could do anything. My pupils were wide and I could see the entire room so clearly. The glass walls, moist with condensation. The tiles that had been cracked and damaged over the years but still held their own. The torches still burning through the humidity. I had conjured up a storm a few minutes before that had swept many of the furnishings into a pile in the corner, where they were now damp and frayed. The harm was considerable, but I knew He would not be cross with me. He would be impressed... He would be proud. I had to make Him proud.

I looked down at Dumbledore again, and instead saw a frail wizard cowered on the ground before me. He was no longer threatening, demanding. He was... weary. Weary of the battle, weary of his life desperately trying to stop the oncoming wave of blackness. He looked up into my eyes and I panicked, dropping his wand. Dumbledore made no move to retrieve it. Instead he held my stare.

"Ginny..." I brought my heel down instantly on his wand and the metal tip snapped the wood immediately. The sparks stopped, the essence had been lost. I kicked it backwards and brought my foot down on the tile. The metal clacked and echoed around the room.

My eyes, still wild, glared down at him and my hair was so charged it had become static, spreading out around my head. I brought a hand up to my cheek and found it was wet. No, I wouldn't cry. Emotion was a weakness. I scraped the tears away and left my cheek flushed and raw.

"Don't call me that. Don't act like you know me. You don't."

"Gin-"

"I said don't call me that!" I screamed at him. When he flinched I felt awful. So guilty I was almost ready to fall down and give in. But no, emotion was just an impediment. It hindered our decisions... influenced our every move. I'd been told to remove yourself of feeling was to become powerful. Special.

The silence affected me. It made me uneasy. The path to follow was unclear. I needed noise. Silence made me deaf. I couldn't hear what He was trying to tell me if there was no noise. I needed noise.

I let loose and screamed. A harsh, primal scream that filled the room in a second. All the pent up rage and angst escaped through my mouth and ran up the glass surrounding us. They turned a tint of red. Red for anger, blood, passion. I ran out of breath, and realised I had made a mistake. The noise didn't give me the energy I needed. It had let the energy escape. I needed passion if I was to be brave enough to do anything. As I panted, I heard a hiss over the hush in the air.

_Kill him..._

Could I? Could I really do it? I looked at him. An old man. A harmless old man.

_Kill him._

"No."

Dumbledore looked up at me, but he wasn't confused. He probably knew what I was being told. Knew who by. Knew that if this was what I was being told, then I would give in. Who was I against Him?

_KILL him..._

But why? Why should I let my body be an instrument of someone else? Let my decisions be made by someone else?

"No."

She won't last long, he'll be thinking. Not long now until his influence gets to her. She's weak, after all.

I could still hear the order, again and again. Infecting me. I wouldn't do it... I wouldn't give in. I had an identity. I was Ginny. And I was not weak.

"NO!" I yelled, throwing my own wand across the tiles where it snapped and skidded until it hit the skirting board. Suddenly all my power drained and I collapsed to the floor. I unwillingly let out a sob. My throat was completely blocked and my eyes had clouded over with tears. All I could do was lie there, taking in the cold from the moist tiles beneath me, and cry. I sensed movement. Probably one of His followers. Come to finish the job, and finish me in the meanwhile. Always be alert, always be aware... that's what He'd taught us. Well tough. I wasn't playing by his rules anymore.

But instead I felt arms wrap around me, and a hand smoothing down my hair. Dumbledore pulled me up into sitting position and I leant against him, let him draw me in.

"Ginny..." he murmured. I had no energy left to rebuke him for his familiarity. I wasn't even sure I wanted to anymore. I wanted someone to comfort me... someone I knew. Someone who cared for me. In an ideal world I wanted Harry, but Dumbledore's arms enveloped me and all I had to do was let the tension escape.

"Ginny." Why did he keep saying my name? Couldn't he see that it was getting to me? I couldn't be Ginny. I couldn't be the same person. The witch, doing all this black magic... that wasn't me. The tears ran down my cheeks, but just soaked into Dumbledore's torn cloak.

"Listen to me. Listen to me Ginny. Something big is coming. We both know it. But just remember. Everybody has a weakness. Everybody."

**-x-**

**S**uddenly I was back in my dreamy state, with His eyes being all I could see. They were smouldering, red, hungry. They fed off the sentiment that was still making the tears fall down my face. Why was He doing this to me? Why couldn't He just let me go?

_You must remember._

My head was in chaos. Screams, yells and sobs all sprinted around it but the silence was even greater, and above it all I could hear His hissing, snake-like voice. I was cawing at Him, screaming **NO**. I couldn't remember. He had told us 'no emotion'. Not ever. I didn't understand. Why would he tell me to feel was a failing, only to make me-

_Everybody has a weakness._

**-x-**

**A**nd I was awake. My pillow was warm with tears, but on turning it over I found the other side was still damp from the evening. I forced my body up and out of bed, I trudged along the hallway and to the kitchen. Although many of the Death Eaters liked to stay up all night, and it wasn't unheard of for them to search my room, I was too shaken up to be concerned about things like locking my door or keeping a look out for other people awake. I didn't have much that was private in my room. All my photos had been embedded in my memory, so that there was nothing material that could be destroyed. My diary I wiped with a spell as soon as it had been written, so that only I could read it. Private possessions were usually discarded on entering the camp, so few wizards tried to bring any in the first place.

I didn't have any by the time I came here, anyway.

I went back to my room once I had filled a glass with water. The cool, refreshing sips usually helped me calm down after I had one of those dreams. I curled up in my chair and looked out of my window. I could see the hill, falling away from the buildings, and the river that ran past at the bottom. And then the forest... spreading out around us for miles. I always imagined what went on in those woods, when I heard the groups going out sometimes in the dead of night. I was never invited to join any of the Night Walks, but I suspected it was nothing more than showy magic. Death eaters who were up themselves, just trying to impress the others. Something that didn't interest me at all.

This was the chair in which I did all my thinking. Usually at night, when I couldn't sleep. And so I sat in the chair, and I thought. Not about what the flickering light in the forest meant. Not about what all the others must be doing. I thought about my life, my past, my memories. I thought about my dream, and what it was all supposed to tell me.

We all have a weakness.

I thought about Harry.

We all have a weakness.

I thought about Harry.

We all have a weakness.

And I thought about Harry.

**-x-**

**End it on this:** yeah so this'll take me years to write. But I'll try to update soon-ish... Reviews make me happy!


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